The Decadent Duke (32 page)

She went down on her knees, frantically searching through his pockets until her fingers closed on the key. She got up, ran to the door, and unlocked it. A sob of relief broke from her throat. She was about to bolt from the chamber when she realized she was naked. She ran back to the bed, wrapped the eiderdown about her, slipped on her shoes, and fled.

She ran to the servants' wing and shouted, “Toby! Toby! I need help! Where are you?” She ran to the end of the hall before a door opened and Toby came out, holding a candle.

“Whatever is the matter, my lady?”

She pushed him back in his room. “Get dressed, we're leaving.”

“You want to leave now? In the middle of the night?”

“Yes . . . Now . . . This minute.” None of the servants had answered her distress call, and she knew they'd been given their orders.

Toby quickly donned his clothes, fastened his boots, and put on his heavy driving coat. “Ye'll freeze out there, my lady.”

She tore a blanket from his bed and thrust it into his arms. “Hurry, Toby. You're the only one I can trust to help me.”

In the darkness, they made their way to the stables. A stable boy roused and lit a lantern. He gaped at the Duchess of Manchester's sister wrapped in an eiderdown. “Is there a fire?”

“Help Toby harness our carriage horses. We have to leave.” She climbed into the coach, and as she leaned back against the squabs, she became aware of the soreness of her breasts and thighs and realized the brutal struggle had left her bruised.

When the horses were harnessed, Toby came to the coach door.

“Take me to Scotland.”

“I daren't drive the carriage to Scotland, Lady Georgina. I'd lose my job. The duchess expects her coach and horses back tomorrow. I'd best take you home to London.”

“No! I'm not going home!V
The last person on earth I want to see is Mother. We'd kill each other!
She searched her mind desperately for some place she could go.

“Take me to my sister Louisa. She lives at Brome Hall in Suffolk. You're not afraid to drive to the next county are you?V

The taunt worked. “I'll take ye to Brome Hall, my lady.V

As the carriage rolled away from the castle and began to pick up speed, Georgina lifted her feet onto the seat and pulled the blanket over herself. In the darkness she relived the past hour. When she recalled how his naked body had slid against hers, her gorge rose.
The thought of him makes me want to spew!
She wiped a tear from her cheek, and her hand brushed against her ear. She realized she was still wearing earrings.
Pearls are for tears.
The words of the old adage strengthened her resolve.
I'll be damned if I'll shed one more tear over the lecherous swine.

As dawn began to lighten the sky, Toby stopped the carriage at a crossroads, unsure of which way to drive.

Georgina opened the door and read the signpost. “Take the road that points to the village of Eye. Someone there will tell you how to get to Brome Hall. It's on the River Dove.V

It was another hour before the coach pulled into the driveway of the hall. Georgina stretched and rubbed a cramp from her leg when the horses stopped. In the courtyard and stable area were several servants. Toby climbed down and opened the door.

“Explain to the grooms that these animals belong to the Duchess of Gordon. Make sure that they get fed and rubbed down.”

A liveried house steward came down the steps, and when he looked inside the coach, his eyes widened at the sight of a female wrapped in an eiderdown. “Can I help you, madam?V

“Is Marquis Cornwallis still in France?”

The steward looked horrified. “I'm afraid so, madam.”

“Good! Go and tell Lady Brome that her sister Georgina has arrived. You may kindly bring me one of her cloaks.V

In a few minutes, Louisa came hurrying down the front steps, and the steward followed her with a velvet cloak over his arm.

“Good heavens, Georgy, was the journey so cold that you needed to wrap yourself in an eiderdown?”

“I'm naked under this, and I have no clothes to put on.”

Louisa, used to Georgina's eccentricities, took the cloak from her steward and sent him back into the hall. She watched as her sister unwound the bedcover from her body. “Your breasts are bruised . . . Whatever have you done to yourself?”

Georgina wrapped herself in the cloak and stepped from the carriage. “Toby will need a place to sleep tonight. We've driven all the way from Kimbolton. The first thing I need is a bath.”

“Were you set upon on the road?” Louisa asked anxiously.

“I was set upon all right. But by a bloody duke of the realm, not a highwayman.”

Louisa took Georgina up to her own bedchamber, then asked the housekeeper to order a bath be made ready. While her sister went to the bathing room, Louisa opened her wardrobe and took out one of her prettiest afternoon dresses. She laid it on the bed and added undergarments, stockings, and garters.

Georgina finally finished her bath and returned. “I almost scrubbed my skin off until I realized it was a pointless endeavor.v She put on the petticoat Louisa had laid out, then drew on the stockings and garters.

“Tell me what happened.” Louisa's voice was hushed.

“At Mother's suggestion I went to Kimbolton to celebrate Susan's birthday. Little did I know it was a bloody conspiracy to throw me into the arms of Francis Russell!”

Louisa sat down on the bed, her eyes wide with apprehension.

“I cannot believe how naive I was. I was unpleasantly surprised when the duke showed up for Susan's birthday dinner. When I accused Susan, she blamed William. I got through the evening and retired around midnight. That's when I got the shock of my life. Bedford came into my room and locked the door with a key he said William had provided.”

“The duke ravished you!” Louisa whispered.

“He assaulted me and came bloody close to ravishing me. How did you guess?”

Louisa's face went chalky white. “He . . . he . . . forced me.v

“He
what
?v Georgina demanded.

“Francis Russell forced himself on me. I . . . I didn't fight him. I thought he was going to marry me.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” “I was too ashamed. I didn't want anyone to know. The swine lost interest immediately, and my reputation would have been ruined forever if I had said anything.v

“Where did this happen?” Georgina was stricken.

“It happened at Susan and William's . . . not at Kimbolton . . . at their London house in Whitehall. Mother recruited Manchester in her matchmaking scheme. I don't like William Montagu.” Her voice broke; she covered her face with her hands and began to sob.

Georgina went down on her knees and gathered her sister into her arms. “Louisa, darling, I'm so sorry. Cry . . . get it all out.” She cradled her sister until all her sobs had subsided.

Louisa dabbed at her eyes. “How did you get away from him?”

“I hit the salacious swine with a bottle of champagne. I was amazed when it knocked him unconscious.”

“Do you think you might have killed him?” Louisa whispered.

“No such bloody luck!” Georgina managed to put a weak smile on her sister's face.

“I've missed you so much, Georgy.”

“Well, I'm staying for a while. Toby can take the coach back to London tomorrow. If I confronted Mother right now, my temper would explode like a volcano.”

“I should have said something. If Mother had known what happened to me, she would never have pushed you into his arms.V

“No guilt, Louisa. I suspect Mother would sacrifice anything to make me the Duchess of Bedford.”

Georgina donned the lovely lavender silk afternoon dress Louisa had laid out for her, and the pair eventually went downstairs.

Charles Cornwallis came from the library where he had been doing his accounts. “Lady Georgina, I am delighted you have come to visit us.” His cheeks flushed pink. “Louisa has missed you.”

“Thank you so much, Charles. Brome Hall is very welcoming.”

“By Jove, your tastes are similar. I do believe Louisa has a gown just like the one you are wearing.”

Louisa rolled her eyes at her sister. “I believe you are right, Charles. How very observant you are.”

At Woburn, Francis Russell, his hand pressed into the side of his belly, dragged himself across the library and sank down in the leather wing chair behind his mahogany desk.

Mr. Burke, used to the duke arriving at all hours and in all states of disarray, came to the library door. “Is there anything you'd like, Your Grace?”

Francis pointed to the brandy on a side table.

Mr. Burke placed the decanter and a glass on the desk. “Anything more, Your Grace?”

The duke pointed to the door. Burke bowed and withdrew.

Francis poured himself a full glass of brandy and drank it down quickly. After a few minutes, he could no longer feel the throbbing tenderness in his groin, but the pain from the wound to his pride was still raw and unendurable. He muttered a filthy oath and lifted the decanter to his lips.

No woman had ever denied his advances before. It was beyond his comprehension that a female could resist him, especially one for whom he lusted and had singled out for special attention. His mind totally rejected the idea that Georgina Gordon did not want him. “She refused to become my mistress because she feared I would not marry her if she did,” he rationalized. “She flung Marianna's name at me. The other women in my life are the real obstacles she cannot tolerate. Georgina is shrewd beyond her years, and believes I will never make her the Duchess of Bedford once she gives herself to me.” The thought mollified him and assuaged his tattered pride. He took another gulp of brandy, and as the comforting warmth spread through his body, he remembered regaining consciousness in her bedchamber and finding her gone. He knew that they had had a violent struggle—he had the wounds to prove it. Rather than face accusations from the Duke of Manchester, he had left Kimbolton before dawn.

“God knows what tale she will tell her sister. I had better inform William Montagu of my intentions.”

Francis took a sheet of paper embossed with his ducal crest from the desk drawer, dipped his pen in the inkwell, and wrote:

 
He folded the letter, addressed the envelope, and secured it with sealing wax. After he consumed more brandy, he took a book from his desk drawer. It was a private journal where he recorded his sexual encounters in graphic detail. The combination of the prurient words and the brandy blurred his perception of reality and fantasy. As he perused the pages, it restored his manhood, and bolstered his belief in his superior virility. He dipped his pen and scrawled
Georgina
across the top of a new page. Then he embarked on a wild flight of imagination, describing how the young beauty had fallen deeply in love with him due to his unmatched seductive powers. In salacious detail he wrote of how he had aroused her passion and made her beg to be fucked.

Francis put down his pen, his pride restored. As a feeling of exaggerated omnipotence filled his brain, he laid his head down on his arms and fell asleep.

 
At Kimbolton, Susan left the servants' hall and ascended the stairs to apprise her husband of what she had just learned. She spied a buxom maid taking him a breakfast tray. “I'll take that,” she said firmly, and noticed the look of disappointment on her face.
No doubt he's been bedding you every chance he gets.

Montagu stretched his arms and sat up as Susan set the breakfast tray on a side table. “I heard the virginal screams last night, so I assume the relationship is well consummated.V

“Bedford didn't sleep in his room, but Georgina's chamber is in shambles. When I could find no sign of either, I questioned the servants. It seems the lovers left before dawn.”

“He most likely carried her off to Woburn to continue their tryst in private. Once the dirty deed was done, I warrant they couldn't keep their hands off each other. I remember how hot you were for me after the first time,” he said with a leer.

“I'm still hot for you.”

He heard her sultry laugh. “How hot? Come, let me feel.”

Susan closed the distance between them, avid for his touch.

His hand went beneath her skirts and slid up between her legs. “Mmm, temptingly hot, and already wet at the thought of me.” He removed his fingers and licked them.

She held her breath as she watched his hands slide the bedcovers down his well-muscled body to reveal his upthrust cock.

“Too bad you're dressed,” he teased.

“I can soon disrobe.” She kicked off her shoes, already aching with anticipation.

His hand squeezed her buttock. “No need for that. I know you can't wait. Just hoist your skirts and bestride me.”